Positive Regard

Chapter Eight

"I'm taking the lead, okay?" Steve said on the plane to Romania after Peggy's funeral. "You'll stay behind me and—"
"No." I crossed my arms.
"Yes, Rosemary."
"No, Steven."
"Rose."
"If you sign the Accords, I'll stay behind you."
"What? No." He crossed his arms too. "No, that's not how it's gonna work. You don't know what you're dealing with. I'm more equipped to handle him than you are. You'll stand behind me or you'll wait outside."
"I will not wait outside, and I'm not going to follow behind you like a dog."
Steve turned around to the rest of his team. "Somebody help."
They were all looking at us, but none of them said anything.
"No offense, Cap, but I don't wanna get involved in that. You guys are scary." Tony said after a moment of silence.
"He is dangerous." Natasha said. "He shot a man through me once. He's ruthless. And he doesn't recognize you, so there's no guarantee that he'll... it's not safe. You should listen to Steve."
"Thank you, Nat." Steve nodded, pulling a gun out and loading it.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Being prepared."
"You're gonna shoot him." I said. He wouldn't shoot Bucky, and we both knew it.
"No, I'm not going to shoot him."
"Then why are you bringing a gun?"
"Just in case."
"Why bring it if you're not gonna use it?"
He sighed. "I already got you kidnapped and stuck in the future and I'm not about to let anything else happen to you. Bucky's not gonna be happy I'm bringing you, if it's him. So yes, I'll shoot him if I have to."
"You aren't going to touch him." I snapped. "I swear to God, Steven—"
"We had a deal, Rose. If anything happened to him, I was supposed to take care of you, no matter what. Bucky would gladly get shot if it meant protecting you, and if that's what has to happen, that's what's gonna happen. I'm sorry, but that's how it's gonna go."
"I'm older. You have to listen to me."
"Bucky's older than you. You lose. How does it feel, huh?" He grinned.
I laughed and sat back down. "Whatever, Steven."
Rhodey or Sam — I wasn't sure which was which— raised his eyebrows. "That's it? You guys are okay again?"
"Yeah." Steve said, then looked at me. "We are, aren't we?"
I shrugged. "Yeah."
Steve, Sam and I switched planes in Vienna and went to Romania.
"Are you okay, Steve?" I asked while Sam was in the bathroom.
"Fine." He smiled, not really looking fine. "You?"
"Fine." I shrugged. "But are you okay with Peggy?"
"Oh. Fine. Yeah." He nodded.
"I'm sorry, sweetie." I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck.
"It's fine. You okay with Bucky?"
"Fine. You?"
"Fine."
I was terrified. Absolutely terrified. If Bucky wasn't Bucky, I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to see him like that. But if it was him, I didn't want to see him like that either. I was terrified. I didn't want to see him as a ruthless assassin, but I also didn't want to see him upset. I was really looking forward to seeing him again, though. I knew it had been seventy years since I'd been told he was dead, but it felt like it had only been a week. It would be much easier to believe he wasn't dead if I saw him, and I desperately needed that.
"Please don't cry." Steve said quickly, but I was already crying. He put his arms around me. "I know." He said quietly.
When we got to Bucky's, Sam waited in the car.
"If things go bad, Rose, you're coming out here and you and Sam are getting the hell out of dodge." Steve said as we got out of the car.
"Okay. Let's go." I started pushing him towards the house.
"Got it, Sam?"
"Got it. I'll just be here listening to crappy music because nothing good'll come in good." Sam frustratedly reached forward to turn the dial again. He'd been messing with it since we got in the car.
Steve pulled his gun from his holster as we walked towards the door.
"Stop it, Steve. Put that away." I hissed.
"Stop. Stay behind me."
I sighed but stood partly behind him as he knocked on the door. My chest felt tight. I was scared.
The door opened, and there was Bucky.
"Steve." He said quietly, sounding kind of shocked.
Steve put his gun away. "Hey, Buck."
"Come in."
Steve walked in, and I followed.
"Rosie." Bucky took an audible breath. "What the hell Rogers? What part of 'keep her safe, no matter what' do you not get?"
Steve answered, but I was looking at Bucky's place. He had a mattress on the floor with a sleeping bag, and candy bars and bags of chips on top of the microwave. Surely he hadn't been living off of chips and candy bars this whole time.
I turned around to join the conversation. I wasn't going to cry.
"Steve, really? How—how is—what? How did she even—how?"
"We're not sure." Steve said. "But she's fine—look. Perfectly fine."
"She's real?" He asked, like he didn't quite believe it.
"Yeah, Buck." I nodded.
"You shouldn't have brought her here." He told Steve, his voice soft.
I sighed. "Guys. I'm literally right here." I wanted to hug Bucky, but I didn't want to initiate anything if he wasn't comfortable with it.
Bucky pulled his jacket around him, dropping his eyes down.
"Can I hug you?" I asked.
"No." His voice cracked. "No. I... You shouldn't be here. I'm dangerous."
"I don't care." I wanted to run to him, but I didn't want to freak him out. I felt like I was trying to get an abused puppy to come to me. I walked to him and wrapped my arms around him. "You need a haircut, sweetie."
"You don't need to be here, Rosie." He said quietly.
"Well, I'm here." I didn't let him go.
He wrapped one arm around me, pulling me to him and putting his forehead on my shoulder. "Rosie." He whispered. "You... You don't know what I've done."
"I don't care." I didn't want to cry, but I started crying anyways. "I lov—"
"No. Don't." His arm tightened around me. "Please."
"I love you." I said anyways.
"No. Don't." His whole body was tense. He was hugging me so tightly it was kind of hard to breathe, but it was fine. He wasn't dead.
"Too damn bad."
"Would you be mad if I kissed you and then made you leave?" He asked, this time speaking loud enough for Steve to hear.
"Yes."
"Oh well. Can I kiss you?"
I nodded, and he kissed me.
"Rosie." He whispered hoarsely. "My God."
"I thought you were dead for, like, an hour and that was the worst hour of my life."
Bucky paused and looked at Steve. "It's... it's 2016, right?"
"Yeah. It's... complicated. She's been—she's been asleep."
"That's not how sleep works, Rogers."
I pulled out of Bucky's arms. "Sweetie. You need a hair cut."
"I don't need you to parent me. I need you to leave." Bucky said, still quiet.
"Not without you." Steve said. "Come on, Buck. Let's go home."
"No. You.... it isn't safe with me. The world could come crashing down any second and I need you—both of you—far, far away. Please."
I didn't like how he was talking. He was speaking quietly and his voice wasn't as deep as it usually was. Even when he came home from being tortured by Nazis, he acted and spoke normal.
Steve was talking, but I spoke anyway. "Steve, can I talk to him alone for a second?" I asked.
"No." Bucky said quickly, before Steve could answer. "What part of 'I'm dangerous' do you not get, Rosemary?"
"Steve, go make sure Sam hasn't broken the radio." I said.
"Sorry, Bucky. She always wins." Steve smiled and walked out, closing the door quietly.
"Bucky—"
"Stop. Please, Rosie. I... I can't have you around me."
"Too bad. I'm here."
"Please don't be. Go back to New York. And... and make a life for yourself without me. I need to stay here alone."
"Why?"
"To keep you safe. To keep everyone safe. Please. I've done... I've done so much bad and I..."
I waited for him to continue, but he didn't, just dropped his gaze. I put my hands on his cheeks, pulling his head down and kissing his forehead. "I love you. I don't care what you've done. I know it wasn't you."
"But I did it." His voice cracked and he blinked hard. "I did it all, Rosie. I killed Howard Stark and his wife. I killed the president—"
"The president?"
"The young one. Kennedy."
"I knew it wasn't Oswald."
He blinked. "Shit. I got Oswald killed too." His voice had no emotion in it. When he'd talked about killing Kennedy and the Starks, he'd sounded hopeless and despairing, but now there was nothing, and I was scared.
Oops. "No." I said, trying to make it not sound rushed.
"That's not the point. I... I watched them die. And I didn't care. I killed innocent people—"
"But now?"
"I don't do that anymore. But that doesn't change that I did."
I ran my hands through his hair and didn't say anything.
He dropped his gaze from mine. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you love me." His voice cracked.
"But I do."
"But you shouldn't." Tears started falling from his eyes. He pushed me away and went to sit on the mattress on the floor. "Leave, Rosie. Please do this for me. If you've ever loved me, please."
I sat down beside him and wrapped my arms around him even though he tried to push me away. "But I do love you, so I can't."
"Oh, God, Rosie." He whispered, his body shaking. He said something else, but I couldn't understand him.
Seeing him this upset was worse than thinking he was dead. He would have been better off dead.